Drooling over massages

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After reading Jeanna's post about about her "fear of farting during yoga," I was reminded of my own strange fear: drool by massage.

I already have a problem drooling in my sleep. I can turn a dove-white pillow canary-yellow in just weeks. The closest sense of relaxation to sleep is the massage, and I've been known to drift in and out of sleep (and drool) while on the chair or table.

I had a massage at work today, and our usual massage lady, Cathy, brought some new, unusual moves to the table. She used her elbows on my upper back and it was as effective as a sleeper hold. I must have only been out for seconds before I woke up to catch a building spit swing.

I've been spoiled by free massages this past year. I've gotten them nearly every month at work as a bonus for billing clients on time (tougher than you think), and had a couple free hook-ups through Amanda's boss. For all of life's stresses right now -- grad school, work and real estate -- I'll take all the massage handouts I can get.

Still, I'm always a little nervous about the drool factor.

Twitter, my hero

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Yesterday, I knocked out approximately 12 hours of work for grad school research paper #2. (Still more to go.)

I updated my Twitter account a few times with my progress, noting that I took a day off of work for the paper. Several of my classmates replied that they were also planning to take days off of work for the paper.

My professor was monitoring my Twitter account and emailed me last night to see if I needed an extension. After checking with some of my classmates on Twitter (who were complaining as well) my professor eventually moved back the due date for the paper by a week for the entire class.

The crowd spoke. Change happened. More so than Obama, Twitter is making a more perfect union possible.

Twitter transcript:

  1. beyond stoked we have a deadline extension for that research paper! A Groundswell must have picked up.about 5 hours ago from web